Prelude to War
by Forge2
Summary: The Atlantis team arrives on Tannis Prime, a world lost since before the last Wraith culling. They find a harsh people very different from the stories Teyla remembers, for the Tannisians have been remade in the image of the Savior, the Lord & Master...
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: On the Sacrifice of Yana

Dr. McKay grumbled softly to himself. They'd been climbing down the mountainside for the better part of an hour now. Shepard and Ford where ahead, like this was a walk in the park. Teyla was keeping pace with him, but McKay knew that was more out of kindness than anything else. He didn't need sympathy from Xena the Warrior Woman. He needed more food. McKay glanced up at the sky. Twin suns glared down at him, offering little heat. A cool breeze arose and nearly blew Ford's cap off. McKay shivered. He decided there and then to hate this planet, whatever it was called.

Teyla hadn't recognized the Gate Address, from the Ancient Database. From the look of the Stargate and the surrounding area, it would seem that no one had used it in centuries. And it was no wonder. Who puts a stargate high in the mountains as far away from the people, as possible? It seemed to McKay, that it sort of defeated the purpose. Though he supposed it was no different then having one in Antarctica. He mumbled to himself. Why did he have to go on the mission anyway? He and Zelenka had been running some interesting experiments, but now here he was enjoying the scenery. Except there was no scenery. It was barren, dry, and cold. Not McKay's idea of a pleasant afternoon. In the distance they could make out a monastery, stark against the landscape. Shepard pointed at it. "Let's go meet the natives," he said.

The Monastery didn't look very inviting up close. Black obsidian rose out of the mountainside, but the doors opened readily enough. Clad in grey robes, the Abbot welcomed them kindly and bid them enter.

"Welcome to the Temple of Yana," he said. The hall was dark, lit only by the flickering candles. It was simple, very few decorations, save a clockwork pattern etched into the floor. "Rejoice, for your pilgrimage is at an end my brothers." Shepard and McKay glanced at each other.

"Uh…pilgrimage," Shepard asked.

"Yes. You mean you did not know? You are dressed strangely but still you could hardly fail to recognize our humble abode." The Abbot glanced at their puzzled looks. "Rejoice now my brethren for it was upon this summit that Yana, thanks be to him, made his Sacrifice so that the Tannisian people could at last be free." Teyla frowned softly at that. The Abbot looked around and saw that they were none the wiser. "Surely you know the story. Every mother whispers it into their child's ear."

"We're not from around here," said Shepard.

"There is nowhere across the globe that the Sacrifice has not touched."

"Unusual upbringing."

"You truly do not know?" The Abbot beckoned them. "Come within so that I may teach you of our heritage."

As they followed, Shepard whispered to Teyla. "What's wrong?"

"He mentioned the Tannisians."

"So what of it?"

"They were once a friendly people and did trade with my people."

"What happened to them," whispered Shepard.

"No one has heard from them in generations…not since the last culling almost 500 years ago." Any further conversation was cut short as they entered the inner chamber. The clockwork symbols were again prevalent. Beneath the torchlight there were over 50 Monks kneeling before an altar, upon which rested the statue of an old man, an open pocket watch in his hand. They were chanting, a harsh rhythmic chant. Softly, softly now loud.

"The chant is maintained at all times," the Abbot said. "Thanks be to Yana, and praise be to our Protector. At the appointed times, the entire order will sound the drums of praise together. 200 of the brethren here alone, hundreds of thousands across the globe. Praise be to our Lord & Master." Shepard really didn't like the sound of that. Something was wrong here, very wrong. "Please be seated," the Abbot smiled benignly. "Once long ago," he began. "On an island in a sea of stars, there was a land where dwelled an ancient mighty race. They looked out upon all of creation and thought it good. But out of the darkness came forth a terrible enemy and they did battle. Fought with each other unceasingly across all of time and space, until at last the two almighty civilizations were laid to waste.

So it came to pass that a man with no memory feel to Tannis. He was humble and kind, and grew to be an elder among our people, renowned for his great wisdom. But when the Wraith came, he found that for all his great wisdom, he had not the strength to save his people, but he knew of one who could. Using his knowledge and subtle arts, he summoned the last of that ancient and mighty race. Yana was consumed in the fire of our Savior's resurrection. He sacrificed himself so that our Savior could have flesh. With his help we drove the Wraith back and hid our world from their view. And our Savior sits enthroned as our Lord & Master eternal. Praise be!" He nodded at them solemnly. You may now observe your own private prayers," he frowned softly. "though I find it unlikely that you have never heard the story before." He left, his robes billowing behind him.

"McKay," Shepard said.

"I don't know. Obviously they're still here and judging by the fact that Teyla's only heard legends of them, I'd say there's some truth to their story."

"What," Ford asked.

"Well I'd say they found some sort of Ancient device that hide or maybe even cloaked the entire system. If that's true, then it would take a colossal amount of energy. The only thing I could think of, of hand, is a ZPM."

"Well that's good," said Shepard.

"Just one problem."

"McKay…"

"We don't know were, or even if there is a ZPM, and of course if we did find it…"

"Taking it away would strip them of their only defense," Teyla said.

"Yeah," Shepard sighed. "And what's with all that Lord & Master business?"

"Don't look at me," said McKay. "I don't do religion."

"Alright," Shepard said. "We need more information. I'm going to talk to the Abbot see if there's a village nearby. Ford see if you can find some robes or something…anything. We stand out too much like this." He gestured to their uniforms.

"Yes sir."

The Abbot waved, as they head out down the road. "Don't forget," he called. "The last Air Tram is in two hours. Should take you right to the Citadel." He watched until they had become little more then specks in the distance. The doors closed fast behind him. He always enjoyed greeting the visitors, and pilgrims. He enjoyed seeing the Temple though new eyes. Everyone saw the Sacrifice slightly different. True wisdom lay in contemplating those differences. Praise be. But these last visitors had been different…wrong. Everything about them, from their accents to their clothing had been wrong. He stopped in the hallway outside the Spiritual Chamber and listened to the chant. Oh how he loved to listen, even as a child the chant had spoken to him, whispered ancient secrets that only he could hear. To become lost in the rhythm and cadence was to know our Lord & Master. He shook himself, and slowly walked on, lingering for a moment before entering his office.

He sank gratefully into his plush seat and sighed. It had been a long day, but it wasn't over yet. In contrast to the spartan monastery the room was ornately furnished. The walls were lined with bookshelves, except behind his desk, where a portrait of the Lord & Master hung, gazing down at the room.

"Computer," the Abbot said. On his desk sat a flat screen computer, the green clockwork emblem etched on its side. The military and Spirituals got all the top of the line equipment. "I have a report."

"Please state your identity," came a coolly professional voice.

"Cyvus Graven, Coordinator" he said.

"Voiceprint confirmed. Please state your purpose."

"I have information for the Master. I think someone has come through the Gate."

"Understood," the computer said. "Please standby."

He leaned back and waited. His finger absently taping out a drumbeat on his desk. Tappity tap went his fingers. Tappity tap.


	2. Chapter Two: Initial Conditions

Chapter Two: Initial Conditions

Arlen Crane wouldn't stop screaming. It had become almost like breathing. He could barely recall a time when his throat hadn't been so raw, when there had been more to life than this. His entire existence had narrowed focused upon a single undeniable truth…pain. Oh the pain. The unceasing, uncaring purity of pain. Wave after wave flowed through his limbs deeper and deeper. Like liquid fire it coursed through his veins, pricked at his skin. Never stopping, never ever stopping.

Sometimes the pain dimmed slightly, just enough. For those brief moments, he found he could think again. He could remember through a haze of lingering anguish. He had a name, a wife, a life. But there was one thing he could not recall, not matter how hard he tried. What had he done to earn this orgy of torment? What was his crime? Arlen knew without doubt that he was guilty. Only those guilty of truly serious crimes were subjected to the stocks. Displayed in the street, open to the people's scorn and their eyes.

Oh their eyes! Eyes watching, devouring his suffering, rejoicing in his pain. He shut his eyes, unable to bare the terrible eyes of strangers. He longed for the darkness to take him, for sleep, nature's sweet restorer to take him away. He could escape in dreams, be free of the pain and all consuming fatigue. But his tormentors had taken that into account. The gift of pain had been turned into an art, perfected and refined. Chemicals kept him conscious; it would not end until his sentence was carried out. Only then could he collapse. Another wave of pain racked his body. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of four Spirituals in somber gray, watching him. Then he was lost in a sea of pain, and he screamed, and screamed.

Teyla placed a restraining hand on John's shoulder. She knew he wanted to run and tear that poor man down, but they couldn't give themselves away, not yet. She shivered. His screams, she'd never imagined a more terrible sound, a guttural inhuman cry, a plea for help that she dared not answer. Not with the guards flanking their prisoner. The stock was built into the side of the building, the platform just big enough to stand on, encased in glass. Pain inducers in the floor and the ceiling. The screams were fainter now, as if someone had turned down the volume.

It made her sick to see such suffering. But there was worse to come. The people, the Tannisians, were not warm and friendly, as the stories had claimed. No. Some had gathered around to…enjoy the show. Even the children seemed hungry, taking a perverse enjoyment in the torture of one of their own. "Name: Arlen Crane," a sign proclaimed. "Charge: Assault. Sentence: Two Days in the stocks." Two days, 48 hours behind the glass for all to see. 48 hours of screams. Teyla couldn't imagine such cruelty, but the children clapped gaily, but what was worse, was the others—the steady stream of people who didn't stop, who passed on by like they saw it everyday, like it didn't matter. After all, there was one on every other block. She look at her teammates, could see her horror reflected in their eyes.

The Citadel wasn't what they had expected. Behind its black gates rose mighty skyscrapers of dull grey metal. People trudged to and fro, unafraid of the possibility of a Wraith attack. So many people. Dressed in drab colors to match the buildings, they slowly made their way about their business. They filed behind each other, walking almost in synchronization. Their faces were expressionless, their eyes cold and guarded, but they moved with purpose, with confidence. Above in the sky, hover drones buzzed about, their electronic eyes trained on the people below.

The Atlantis team had shuffled in with the others. Hidden beneath their borrowed monks robes, they seemed to fit in. They passed a fading poster: "Unity through Obedience," it read. "Strength through Unity," proclaimed another. "Victory through Strength!" Soldiers were posted on every sidewalk. A never-ending column of troops marched around the corner, their weapons at the ready. Step, step, step, STEP. They marched in time to a strange drumbeat. Step, step, step, STEP. Their faces hidden from view by dark helmets.

Shepard led them away from the others. "I'm getting a very bad feeling about this," he whispered.

"No…you think," McKay said. "We should leave now."

"Hate to say it sir," said Ford. "But I agree. This could get ugly." He glanced at Arlen.

"Yeah," Shepard said. "But what about the ZPM?"

"If there is one," McKay said. Shepard glared. "What?! I made a guess based on a religious fable. Not exactly the best proof ever. And even if there is one, what are we going to do—ask the friendly neighborhood dictator if we could borrow it?"

"Well that's a plan," Shepard said.

"A very bad one," McKay muttered.

"Dr. McKay is right," Teyla said. "I believe that we should leave immediately. The citadel is large. Finding a ZPM would be almost impossible and retrieving it even more so."

"I know," Shepard said. "And I don't think we'd have much luck trading with them either. From the looks of things we haven't get much to offer. It almost feels like Earth."

"Earth is like this then," Teyla frowned.

"What?" Shepard said. "No! Well, not exactly...we certainly don't have anything like," he glanced at Arlen's screaming figure. McKay shifted uncomfortably.

Suddenly everyone around them looked up at the giant screens fixed onto the sides of the buildings. A news anchor had been droning on, but now inexplicably everyone was interested. Shepard had tuned it out almost immediately, disgusted at the blatant propaganda. He frowned softly. How did everyone know to turn to watch? It had been eerie, done in near perfect synchronization. "In related news," the anchor said. "our Lord & Master has recently completed his tour of Patrexes and Arcalian. He met with the Viceroys and even found time to visit Elettaria's Crater. His visit culminated this morning in the public execution of Olin Doi, whose terrorist attack six months ago disrupted the Archangel Network and isolated Arcalian for almost 3 weeks. Our Master saw to it personally that justice was enacted. Rejoice and observe…"

The screen showed what appeared to be an arena, filled to capacity. A man was half dragged in and taken up onto a raised platform. The crowd jeered, calling angrily, but he didn't seem to hear them. Olin didn't seem to hear anything. His eyes were hollow. He seemed more like an empty shell then a man. Then the crowd went wild, as another man entered. He strode confidently toward the platform, and gave his subjects a wave. He was younger than Sheppard had expected, assuming that this was the so-called Lord and Master. Judging by the awe in the people around him, he thought it was a safe bet. Still he looked about Sheppard's age, perhaps even a little younger. He didn't seem imposing enough, John had been expecting something…more.

The Master lifted Olin's face and looked into his eyes as if searching for something. Then the Master took a step back. He drew his weapon with a flourish and smiled softly at Olin, before casually aiming and firing. There before everyone's eyes Olin began to glow and shrink, smaller and smaller. It was over in a matter of seconds and all that remained of Olin Doi was one corpse in miniature.

"He will be returning to the Citadel this evening and is expected to make the annual commencement address at the Academy tomorrow. Praise be to our Lord & Master," the newswoman said.

"Praise be," everyone repeated.

Sheppard glanced around nervously. "Ok," he said. "We need to go…now!"

-The Master's Flagship Kasterborus: In route to Tannis Prime- 

The Master rested his head in his hand and massaged his temple gently. "Convey my deepest gratitude to Coordinator Graven," he said at last. "His information is most helpful."

"Yes Master," the young attaché said.

The Master glanced up at him. "Contact the Chancellery Guard, have them place the Citadel on lockdown immediately."

"By your command."

"Yes," the Master agreed. "That will be all for now." The attaché bowed and left quickly silently. The Master frowned at his retreating back. So young and ambitious. There had been hundreds like him over the years, all dead now and the Master did not mourn their passing. He'd even helped some of them along. They'd all thought it a great honor to serve him. The Master chuckled softly. Pitiful. Five hundred years living among the muck, surrounded by the stench of humanity. He rose quickly and poured himself a drink. The last few decades had been the worst. All that waiting, waiting for the right moment to strike. It was hard to be patient. He needed action. The drums demanded it, and would not be denied. He swirled his glass around watching the ripples form. Ripples, yes coming to ruin his maticulate plans.

Outsiders had come though the Gate. That should have been impossible. Tannis had been erased, removed from prying eyes. Safe behind a perception filter. There was only one hardcopy of the address left in the galaxy, but no one could have…The Master frowned. Could it be? Were the intruders from Atlantis? But that was impossible, the Alterans were gone, dead or ascended. Unless some of them had survived, but why come here now? He crossed over to the window and gazed out into the black. Tannis Prime was growing steadily as the Kasterborus approached. The space around was swarming with activity. Satellites, orbital weapons platforms, and half a dozen starships performing war games. Well if the Alterans had truly returned, then let them come. The Master downed his drink in one gulp. He was ready. War was coming one way or the other.


	3. Chapter Three: The Initiation Ceremony

Chapter Three: The Initiation Ceremony

-The Gates of the Citadel-

The gates of the Citadel swung closed with an ominous clang. "All Citizens will return to their homes," came a voice from the speakers. "A curfew is now in effect. All citizens return to your homes. Rejoice and obey."

"Right," McKay muttered. "Rejoice! Who does he think he's kidding?" But the people all around were in motion, moving with a deliberate unhurried urgency. Happily obeying.

"From the look of things," Ford said. "pretty much everyone." In front of the Gates a wall of soldiers had formed, guns at the ready. High in the sky the hover drones were circling the perimeter of the city.

"Teyla," Sheppard whispered. "What does this look like to you?"

"It looks like they are trying to keep someone in."

"Yeah. That's what I thought." Sheppard sighed in frustration. "It's never easy is it? Once just once, I'd like the mission to go smoothly. Meet some nice friendly natives, who take us to their nice friendly leader…"

Someone was tugging on Ford's robes. He glanced down at the boy. "Hello," he smiled.

"You're Spirituals," the boy said confidently.

Ford knelt down so that they were at eyelevel. "That's right."

"I thought so. A pair from the Prydonian Order visited my class once. It was a great honor."

"I'm sure it was. How old are you?"

The boy smiled broadly. "I'm eight. Tomorrow I'll be initiated into the Academy."

Ford glance at Sheppard uncertainly. "Uh congratulations…" he tilted his head inquiringly.

"Dalbane," the boy said. "They say our Lord & Master himself will attend." Dalbane bounced excitedly. "Do you think it's true?"

"I'm sure it is," Ford said.

"Dalbane," a woman called running over. "Stop bothering the Spirituals," she said taking the boys hand.

"Don't worry," Ford said rising. "He wasn't a bother." She bowed her head slightly in thanks. Dalbane tugged on his mother's sleeve. He mumbled softly to her. She smiled apologetically at the others.

"He wants to know if you would attend the Initiation tomorrow." She ruffled his hair fondly. "He doesn't understand. I apologize. We don't want to put you to any trouble."

"Actually," Sheppard said. "it's no trouble at all." He smiled his most charming smile.

-Fleet Command Center: Five Miles below the Panopticon-

Thalia couldn't concentrate with the Master practically breathing down her neck. She could feel his presence behind her, pacing back and forth. She could feel her palms sweat. Everyone knew the price of failure. Back and forth and back again went the Master. He was in one of his moods, restless energy bottled up inside waiting for release, and the Master didn't like waiting.

She scrolled through the hover drone reports as quickly as she could. Someone had to have noticed them. She didn't want to review the scans personally, that would take even more time. The Master began to tap out a rhythm on his leg. Thalia shivered. Instinctively she knew she didn't have much time left. Back and forth he went. Tappity tap. She sighed in relief.

"Four monks matching Coordinator Graven's description entered the Citadel through the Northern Gate at about 7:30 this evening…"

"Where are they now," the Master demanded. His eyes drilled into hers, burning angrily.

"I'm not sure," she answered. Inside she prayed to the Ancient Gods, softly though. In case he could hear her thoughts.

He pulled her to her feet roughly. "Then I suggest you find out, or head will roll," his thumb caressed her neck gently. "Starting with yours."

"Sir," his attaché coughed politely. He turned his gaze on the young man who visibly shrunk back. "The initiation speech," the assistant whispered. Thalia could feel the Master's body tense. For a moment she thought he would attack his own assistant. Then suddenly he released her. She fell back into her chair with a thud.

"You're right of course," the Master beamed. "Places to go, people to see. No rest for the wicked." He walked slowly over to his attaché, who some how managed to stand his ground. "Tell me son," the Master put a companionable had on the other man's shoulder. "what's your name again?"

"Ezra Crane, sir."

"That's right…Ezra. You worked very hard on that speech didn't you."

"Yes sir."

The Master slowly led them to the doorway. "And your proud of it, aren't you Ezra."

"Uh…yes sir." He swallowed nervously.

"Good. A man should be proud of his works." The pressure on Ezra's shoulder increased suddenly. Whit hot pain shot through him. His eyes teared up slightly. His legs gave way and he fell his knees with a clang. The Master glanced down at him, as though he were a mildly interesting specimen. "Don't think I haven't noticed you trying to herd me."

"I-I would never…"

"Shhh," the Master said. "It's okay. I'm just glad we cured you of your little delusions early. Who am I, Mr. Crane?"

"You are my Master," Ezra managed to say through the pain. "and I obey you."

"And never forget that." The Master glanced up at the technicians hunched over their controls, studiously not looking at him, trying desperately to look busy. "No one told you to stop working," he snapped. Then his face broke out into a huge friendly grin, but no one was fooled.

-The Academy: The Initiation Ceremony- 

In the audience someone coughed loudly. The conductor cleared his throat and the orchestra began to play. Then came the voices of the Academy Chorus. On the stage they stood, in three rows. Children ages 10 to 18 raised their voices to the air. "We sing in praise of total war. Against the Wraith we abhor," they sang.

Teyla glanced at Sheppard uncertainly. He met her gaze with an unreadable expression. The long hall was filled to capacity. Proud parents, excited children, the staff all nodding along enjoying the music. The Master had arrived with his entourage accompanied by the sound of drums. Everyone had stood and bowed. He had smiled bashfully and waved. Sheppard glared at the back of his head. He was really starting to hate that guy. The Atlantis Team was seated in the far back, as close to the exit as possible. The music stopped. The chorus bowed and filed silently and efficiently off the stage.

"And now it gives me great pleasure to welcome our Savior, ruler of Tannis and all its dominions, Our Lord and Master!" The audience broken into spontaneous applause and enthusiastic cheers. More disturbing to Sheppard was that, as far as he could tell, the cheers were genuine.

The Master climbed up onto the stage and twirled around basking in the adoration. "Thanks you," he said. The ovation continued unabated. "Thank you. Please sit," he walked over to the podium and placed his notes down. Slowly the crowd quieted. The Master smiled. "I am truly humbled," he said. "But we are not here today for me. No today is a day that belongs to the future, to our children. They enter the Academy on the eve of our glorious liberation. Our great work is still before us, and by our blood and strife, by our sacrifice will we purchase their inheritance." He gestured at the sea of eight year olds. "They will inherit a galaxy free from fear, free from outsiders," the Master met Sheppard's eyes across the long chamber.

"Oh shit." Sheppard said and that's when all hell broke loose.


	4. Chapter Four: The Interrogation

Chapter Four: The Interrogation 

Aiden Ford woke with a groan. The world swam into view around him, fuzzy indistinct shapes, and bright so bright. It hurt his eyes. For a moment he was tempted to sink back into the oblivion of sleep, into the welcoming dark. Then he remembered. The ceremony, guards chasing him and running so fast. He blinked and the room solidified around him. Four walls, a gleaming oppressive white, and no door. He blinked away the spots forming under his eyes, and grunted softly. The back of his shoulder ached slightly. He reached over to prod his wound when a voice stopped him.

"Oh I wouldn't do that if I were you," Ford glanced up and there clad in a black suit sat the man who's face was posted throughout the Citadel, the man who had killed to the cheers of a crowd. "Staser burns can be very nasty."

"W-where am I," Ford asked. "The others…what have you…" He pulled himself into a sitting position, propped up against the wall.

"Ah, ah, ah," the Master waged his finger. "I'm asking the questions. Besides, if I were you, I'd be more worried about myself. Now it's quite simple really," he smiled down at Ford. "You know something I don't know," he lilted. "I know you're from Atlantis. It says so on your patch, but you're not Alteran, I'd know if you were." He tapped his lip thoughtfully. "Your flag," he pointed at the American patch on Ford's other shoulder. "I know that flag…" The Master's eyes bored into Aiden, then suddenly the Master shot out of his seat. "You're from Earth," he threw back his head and laughed, a genuine laugh. "Oh that's fantastic! Hello Earthling," he waved. "what brings you all the way to the Pegasus Galaxy. This is the early 21st century; your lot shouldn't be here for another millennia or three. How'd you manage that?"

"Name: Aiden Ford," he answered. "Rank: First Lieutenant, Serial Number…"

"No, no, no, no, NO! None of that. I ask questions, you answer them. That's the way of things. Do you understand me Aiden?" No response. Ford kept his eyes on the floor. "Oh Aiden, Aiden is anyone in there? Does anybody care? Ah I see. You're being stubborn." The Master smiled softly his eyes mockingly sympathetic. "Well I like this game. You've been here a few days now, I'm sure you noticed the stocks, a delightfully macabre invention, but not exactly handy. But what if you could miniaturize, condense all that technology into one little handheld devise…" He reached into his pocket and drew a small device, painted black and gray. "Like say this one," he shook the device slightly so it rattled.

"Go to hell!"

"The Master smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that." With a casual flick of the wrist he brought the device to bear, and then all Ford knew was pain…

Ford screamed and screamed as wave upon wave of fiery plan crashed through him. His skin burned, and his bones moaned in protest and all he could do was ride the current, barely hanging on to awareness. Time lost all meaning; it could have been hours, or mere minutes, but the pain finally stopped. Ford collapsed, barely able to even move his head. The Master leaned down and gently wiped the drool off Ford's face.

"Now Aiden, why don't you be a good boy? It's so simple, just answer a few questions and it'll all be over." Ford groaned. It was so hard to stay awake. The darkness called, whispering promises of sleep. "Yes, no, maybe so," the Master waved his hand in front of Ford's face. "Anything? Anything at all?" The Master sighed. "Well you're no fun. Though your screams weren't bad, very musical. I'd say a B flat." No response. "Fine we'll do it your way. No more games." He pouted. "Humans! Take all the fun out of life." Ford's eyes slipped closed softly, it felt so good to slip away, to forget the fear and pain. He was jolted awake suddenly. The Master's hands shoot out quicker than the eye could see and yanked Ford's face up to meet his eyes. "Now Aiden don't be rude. Pay attention when your betters are talking."

"Who do you think you are," Ford managed through gritted teeth, his throat protesting.

"Oh I'm so sorry. Here I am torturing you half to death and we haven't even been properly introduced." The Master's eyes caught Ford, pinned him in place. He couldn't even blink as those terrible eyes drilled into him. Deeper and deeper. Ford had never felt more naked in his life. "You see I am the Master and you will obey me!" Suddenly Ford could feel another presence burrowing inside his mind, tearing past his natural defenses as if they were not there. "You. Will. Obey. Me." Each word echoed inside Ford's mind like a sentence of doom. He tried to fight, tried to build a fortress, but no sooner had he built a wall, then the Master tore it down. There was no escape, no resistance, no help. There was only the will of the Master, terrible and mighty. "You. Will. Obey. Me."

Sheppard darted into the abandoned factory, trying his best to disappear into the shadows. He didn't think anyone had followed him, but he couldn't be sure. The Master had eyes everywhere, and they were all looking for them. McKay sat huddled in a corner; the left side of his face a bloody mess. A staser bolt had grazed his ear. He was muttering to himself as he fiddled with his radio. Sheppard sat down next to him causing McKay to start in surprise. "You okay Rodney?"

"Okay?! Am I okay? Of course I'm not ok." Then he sagged, his righteous indignation dissolving. Sheppard patted him on the back and handed him a food bar. McKay grabbed it greedily, giving Sheppard an inquisitive look even as he gobbled it down.

"I stole it," Sheppard shrugged. "Any luck," he nodded toward the radio.

"No contact with either Ford or Teyla, but I did manage to tune into the news broadcast…you're not going to like it."

"What else is new," Sheppard said.

McKay switched the radio on and the static slowly cleared and young woman's voice could be clearly heard. "…Repeat do not approach. If you see them report immediately to the Chancellery Guard. Insurgents are armed and extremely dangerous, last seen wearing stolen robes of the most holy Prydonian Order. I repeat do not approach. Praise be to our Lord & Master." Sheppard flicked it off.

"Right," he smiled brightly. "Now all we need to do is find Lt. Ford and Teyla, and break out of the Citadel, hike back to the Stargate and dial home without being caught…piece of cake."

McKay stared at him incredulously. "Oh sure…cake."

The radio crackled. They both turned. "John," it sputtered. "John are you there," the voice was unmistakably Teyla.

"Hey," Sheppard said. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine John. Is Lt. Ford with you?"

"You mean he's not with you," Sheppard and McKay traded glances.

"No…" _Static._ "…Dr. McKay?"

"I'm fine," McKay said. "But we need to…"

"Aww a reunion, how touching." A new voice emerged from the radio, a familiar voice. "I think I'm going to cry."

"Who is this," Sheppard glanced around, fingering his weapon.

"I think you know Johnny, may I call you Johnny?"

"The Master," Sheppard said.

"Yes that's right, the Master. I must say I was impressed how you managed to escape my guards. Especially you, Teyla was it? Those were some of my best men and you all got past them, well almost all. I'm afraid Aiden can't come to the phone right now, but I can take a message…Oh and sorry about the ear." They could hear the smile in his voice, the glee.

"Go to hell," Sheppard practically growled.

"Oh but I plan on living forever, but enough about me. Let's talk about you. Separated with my troops and drones between you and your precious little Stargate. Uh oh! That doesn't sound very good does it? "

"Why are you doing this?"

"Hmm…let me think about that. You come to my planet uninvited and impersonate my subjects. Remind me again how Earthlings deal with spies."

"We're not spies," Sheppard said.

"Well certainly not very good ones."

"Listen," Sheppard said. "you don't have to do this. We have a common enemy. Perhaps we…"

"Could be best friends and braid each other's hair," the Master interrupted. "Please spare me the 'Why can't we all just get along' speech. It's so boring." The Master chuckled darkly sending a shiver down their spines. "Besides a little birdie whispered in my ear. Apparently you're the reason there are so many Wraith running around ahead of schedule. Millions upon millions of humans are being culled every week and it's all your fault…John."

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Say again. I didn't quite catch that."

"I'm sorry," Sheppard said.

"Are you? Are you really," the Master asked. "Well I'm not. I hate waiting. Centuries of waiting and twiddling my thumbs. Boring!" The Master laughed. "But this is much better. I do love a good chase scene. Run away now Earthlings. Run for your life." His words echoed throughout the deserted building. Sheppard and McKay glanced at each other. "I said RUN!"


End file.
